Precipice.

The stars fall from the atmosphere, and shatter pieces across the ground. Fragments become little more than twisted rubble, like a mirror viewed In the dark, a window covered with cloth, a solemn reminder of how… How everything that rises falls. The shockwaves from the impact billow outwards, higher than humanities achievements can rise, and lower than their souls can fall.

He sits, his feet dangling over the edge of the precipice that is the Harbor bridge.
He forces his hand through his skull and picks through it delicately, selecting memories of things He would rather be forgotten. These, he softly drops over the railing, to fall and vanish into the water, to softly mingle with the things that lie down there, and to join them in their tomb.
The bridge shakes as the shock wave hits it, and He momentarily loses his balance. Carelessly he puts out his hand to prevent himself from falling into the river, in a manner that is only just fast enough to catch his balance, but so calmly that the movement almost seemed innate, as simple as stepping from a curb to cross a road.
For a second he considers falling in by choice, and pretending he lost his balance, but just as quickly he changes his mind.

(Image source: http://favim.com/image/515256/ no idea who to source, so web page.)
Words from me: It's nice to clear your mind occasionally.

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